Ice.

Chapter One.

I shake my head and try my best to disregard the thought that keeps me up at night, before walking over to a shelf of books and start straightening them out so they look nice. After I'm done doing those exciting tasks I make my way back to the registers.

I actually like closing the store on nights like this, when there are only a few people shopping and I'm working with a friend with no managers around. I guess we should always have a manager on duty, but we never really do. There are only 2 of them and they're married and only come down here once in a blue moon.

It's ten minutes before we close now and the door chimes, indicating that someone has come into the store. Oh, come on.

Whoever this is better already have a book in their hand and be at this register in under 5 minutes, or else they're sleeping in the Self-Help section tonight.

Luckily, the young man comes up to the register quickly, a copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his hand. He greets me with a smile, so I return it. I scan the book as the man makes small talk, "Have you ever read it?"

"Of course," I say, putting the book in the bag and ringing him up on the register. It was one of my favorite books in school and I've gone back to it many times over the years. "I think we all have a little bit of Holden Caulfield in us."

He smiles at my statement, before looking down and inserting his card in the card reader. James comes behind the register, "Are there any more books back here?"

I grin at the fact he's going to do a part of my job, something he does often if I'm being honest. "Yeah, those over there. I separated them into their sections for you."

He looks at me with an amused smile, "Wow, it's like you knew I was going to do your job for you," he picks up the books and walks over to me, rubbing my arm, "Thanks, babe."

I smile at him as he walks away, having to remind myself once again that his British mannerisms allow him to use terms of endearment platonically. Which, might I add, is not fair.

"Thank you," the man I am ringing up says as I hand him the bag and the receipt, "Have a nice night."

"You too," I smile at him, which he returns. He had a nice smile.

After he leaves, I lock the door behind him and call to James, "Is there anyone else here?"

"Let me check!"

He makes his rounds before he comes back up too me and says, "Looks like its just us." But what I actually hear is, "Lets go make out in the Sociology section."

I get my stuff from the back room and make my way to my car with James, us departing with a hug. When I get home I take off my makeup and go straight to bed, exhausted after a long ass day.

*

I wake up, immediately panicking that my alarm didn't go off. I reach over for my phone and realize it's only 6 when my alarm is set for 6:30. Well, that sucks but now I'm awake, so I might as well get up.

I wouldn't consider myself a morning person, since I really dread waking up, getting out of bed, etc. However, I get up pretty easily and never sleep in when I have school or a responsibility. I hate being late so that really gets me out of bed when I need too. But on weekends or days off you best believe I am in bed until at least 11.

I sit in the chair at my desk, turning on my light and opening my laptop, trying to decide on what movie to put on while I get ready. Once I decide on yet another Marvel movie, I take out my mirror and pull back my hair to start doing my makeup. I love doing my makeup and I wear quite a lot. It's relaxing to me, and I like how I look with it. I know a lot of people aren't fans of girls who wear as much makeup as I do, eyelashes and all, but frankly, I don't give a shit.